An ode criticised the pain
There was nothing left to gain,
In lieu of honour, glory and medals
We became saddled with pedals.

Love, hate and a whole new taste
Drag us through an unwanted race,
Which is uncommonly common to face
Yet, we have ourselves to pace.

Tug through the threads of old
We rebel against the restrictions of yore,
With faith by our side inside
We look at the world with pride.

Holding our head at the jabs of praise
We ultimately become unfazed,
Try to mend the broken hearts
And finally learn to be smart.

Discretion is the go-to way
When things just disintegrate,
Evolve everyday into someone new
We make our own predictions true.